


Something Like Yearning

by Kyna_Winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 10:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28469475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyna_Winchester/pseuds/Kyna_Winchester
Summary: Sam comes home from school early and over hears Dean with a girl. He is over come with envy wishing he were the one under Dean instead.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	Something Like Yearning

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short Drabble/Ficlet. Please enjoy.

Sam hears them before he even shoves his key into the rusty aged doorknob. They are so loud, louder than usual. The aching long-winded wailing. The gravely grunting of strenuous laboring effort. The smack-smack of slippery sweat-dampened flesh colliding together. The acid of envy boils in his gut, snaking its malice ridden way through him like bile in the back of your throat.

The grooves cut into the key, grind against the tumblers as he thrusts it home. His teeth grind too. He hesitates for an awkwardly long moment, just standing there with his hand fisted around the knob contemplating staying outside. The bead of sweat that trickles down the center of his back to the cleft at the top of his ass makes up his mind for him. The snarl of his upper lip arching farther in agitation as the door swings open because the sounds are louder now. He can make out what was muffled speech before he’d stepped inside this shitty hovel of a cabin.

The door swings shut behind him as the female squawks like an injured bird. His backpack slips off his shoulder, falling to the floor as, fucking Christ, the sweetest sound Sam’s ever heard in his life. The chuckle that sounds from the open bedroom door at the end of the hall, the one that sounds like it belongs to an angel, actually belongs to Sam’s big brother, Dean.

“Whoa, why you running away?” Comes the angel’s voice, or in this case, perhaps it is more akin to a siren’s song because the sound alone has Sam’s feet moving, helplessly drawing him down the hallway, desperate to be closer.

“It hurts,” cries the harpy, “too deep.”

Sam’s teeth dig into the tender chapped flesh of his bottom lip. How dare she complain? Doesn't she understand how lucky she is? Understand the gift she’s been given? Sam can’t believe it; the bitch has something he never will, the one thing he desperately wants. If Sam were her, he’d never dare complain. He would take it, all of it, happily. Sam is barely aware that his feet begin to shuffle across the floor faster. He’s almost there, the place where he will be able to see. He has to see it, wants to see it. He wants and wants and wants so damn bad the loneliness of it stings like a knife to the gut. He reaches the perfect spot in time to see the female trying to squirm away from Dean, who is gripping her by the hips to hold her in place, forcing her to take him.

“Nuh-uh, there ain't no running girl. You’re gonna take this dick,” Dean says to her through the rumble of a light-hearted chuckle.

Sam groans softly. His knees wobble like a newborn foal causing him to fall back against the wall. His dick is swelling at an alarming rate, tenting the zipper of his jeans. He reaches down, palming himself through the coarse fabric because fuck him he can see it; Dean’s cock wrapped in a sheath of latex so thick and long thrusting in and out of her. He has her on her back, himself on his knees, looming over her. His large hands grip her at the back of her knees, spreading her legs far apart. He lets one leg fall loosely down as he moves a hand up to smack her cheek. “Hey. Hey now babe, you’re passing out. Stay with me, that’s right, look at me, Carmen-”

“It’s Candice,” she snaps at him.

“Whatever,” Dean grumbles. Then, he’s fucking her hard, fast, and ruthless. He pounds into her over and over again while she laments her pleasure through red kiss bitten lips. Sam can’t look away. He’s trapped, lost in time watching Dean’s muscled back flex. His nails digging into the meat of the girl's thighs. Watching Dean’s balls sway to and fro as his cock slams into her, stretching and filling her. Making her writhe beneath him as she cums over and over again. Until Dean’s hips stutter forward once, twice, then he pulls out of her spilling his load into the condom while his cock twitches and throbs. Sam’s right there with him, cumming untouched in his jeans while he bites down into the meaty part of his palm just below the thumb to keep from moaning.

The girl sighs in a pleased manner as Dean leans back up in a kneeling position. He pulls the condom off, twisting it into a knot, and tosses it into the trash bin beside the bed. Sam’s still panting breathlessly in the afterglow of it all. When he turns to retreat to his room, he halts when he once again hears Dean’s voice.

“Oh no, where you think you’re going? Bring that sloppy fucking cunt here.”

Sam turns back to watch again as Dean dips down low. Shoving two fingers inside the girl to fuck her rapidly with them while he licks and sucks her clit. Sam’s jaw drops open as Dean fingers her faster and faster, making her scream until suddenly Dean is off her in a flash. Standing with his back to her beside the bed as she cums, squirting a stream of fluid. She’s convulsing, shuddering, moaning non-stop with her eyes rolled back into her skull chanting Dean’s name like a mantra. Sam was too busy watching her fitful orgasm; he didn’t see Dean pull his jeans up, the fly hanging wide open for a perfect view of his V-cut hips, before moving towards the door.

Not until the door swung open and it was too late. Dean and Sam were staring at each other like two deer caught in headlights. They both knew Sam wasn’t supposed to be there. He should have been at school. They also both knew that Dean should have been at work, down at the diner as a short-order cook. The fact that he hated it so much was probably why he was here. He’d much rather be down at the local garage working on cars. It’s also probably where he picked up the girl, most likely a floozy little waitress that had no doubt been eye-fucking Sam’s big brother the moment he’d walked into the place.

“Sammy?” Dean’s soft voice pulled Sam away from his inner thoughts.

“I uh. . .” Sam trailed off because Dean’s eyes were scanning over him, stopping where they found the wet spot from the sticky mess soaking through his jeans. Sam bit down on his lip, his eyes cast down to his feet, because goddamn it, Dean was staring at him with this almost confused, angry look in his eye.

Sam flinched when Dean’s hand crashed open-palmed against the wall right beside his head. “Cutting class, baby boy?”

Sam swallowed hard at the sound of Dean’s heavy purr. Dean’s cheeks were flushed, his hair messy and damp with sweat, his lips plump and red. He looked used, fucked, and owned. What a lie, nobody could own Dean Winchester, not even Sam, no matter how bad he wanted it. Fuck, he wanted it so bad. Just one little touch. His eyes slowly drug themselves up from the floor to land on Dean’s sparkling emerald eyes. He couldn’t hide it if he tried now that he’d seen Dean in action. He wanted his brother to touch him that way so badly, the evidence branded on his face.

“She get you so excited you creamed yourself, baby bro?” No, not her; Sam ached to say it. His chest ached so bad the tiniest of whimpers escaped. Dean chuckled at the sound. He rummaged around in his jeans pocket then smacked a hand against Sam’s chest. Sam heard the crinkle of foil as his hand ran over Dean’s; his fingers tracing over his brothers as he gripped the condom in Dean’s hand.

“Want a turn, Sammy?” Dean purred in his ear making Sam gasp with excitement. “Take her Sammy, give it to her good.”

Sam cringed, his stomach churning with bile. “She doesn’t even know me, De.”

Dean was pushing him forward off the wall, slipping behind him. Sam couldn’t resist the urge to press his body against Dean’s. “Sam, chicks like that don’t care. She just wants cock. I mean, just look at her?”

The girl was sitting up now, her legs still trembling with aftershocks. Jesus, just how many times did Dean make her cum? She was staring at Sam through hazy eyes as if she were trying to figure out exactly how old he was. She must not have cared too much because she was spreading her legs apart, exposing the sloppy wet slit where Dean had been, all puffy and pink from Dean’s rough treatment. She beckoned him forward with a finger, but none of that mattered to Sam because Dean was gripping him by the shoulders, the heat of Dean’s breath was on his neck, and Dean had used a condom. There was no way Sam would be able to sneak a taste of his brother off of her now.

“Dean, I-";

“Go on, Sammy.” Dean pushed him forward.

“No! Jesus, Dean, just no.” As much as it hurt him to do so, Sam shoved Dean off of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Please be sure to leave a comment and kudos.


End file.
